Desperation
by Bobbi
Summary: What happened after the Pensieve scene in OotP? A childhood playground spat could hardly be Snape's 'worst' memory ... or is it what the incident led to that's so terrible?


This fic continues from the Pensieve scene of OotP. I got to thinking about why the chapter was entitled "Snape's Worst Memory" and I thought that, as far as bad memories go, that was fairly tame, especially for someone we know to have been a Death Eater. So here's my take on what happened after adult-Snape dragged Harry out of the memory ...

"Right," said Potter, looking furious now, "right—"

There was another flash of light, and Severus was once again hanging upside-down in the air.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" Potter asked the crowd maliciously.

Severus, struggling to get down, froze, horrified. "Potter, I swear—"

"Swear what?" asked Potter, sneering. "It looks to me, Snivelly, that, as you're the one at a distinct disadvantage just now—"

A jet of red light hit him hard on the back and he fell, face down, onto the grass. Severus was dropped once more onto the ground in a heap. He sat up dazedly, wincing at the dull ache in his head, livid and aflame with embarrassment.

Black had whirled round and was pointing his wand at two approaching figures.

"Aw," cooed Bellatrix Black, walking towards him, wand trained on his face. "It's widdle cousin Siwius. Now, what have I told you about playing nicely?" Bellatrix wasn't alone. A boy Severus vaguely recognised as being called Lestrange was with her. Rupert ... Robert ... Rudolph?

"What do you want?" Black snapped. Severus kept quiet, though he was getting grim satisfaction out of Black's apparent nervousness. The crowd was dispersing rapidly, much to Severus's relief. Many of the people in it were looking intimidated, some outright fearful. 

His head was spinning. Potter was still unconscious. If Severus had thought he would get away with it he'd AK him on the spot ...

"Well, little Sirius," the Black girl said conversationally, "I think that if you're going to bully other children you should be punished for it ..." A slightly manic grin spread over her pale face. "What do you think, Rodolphus?"

Rodolphus Lestrange stepped up beside her, tapping his wand on the palm of his hand. "Oh, I quite agree, Bella. We cannot allow that sort of behaviour."

"And as older students," Bellatrix continued, "it would be irresponsible of us not to do something about it. And if two-on-one is acceptable for him—" she gave a brief nod in Severus's direction, "—it's acceptable for you." She giggled.

Severus watched as Black attempted a surreptitious look over at Lupin and that obsequious dimwit Pettigrew, who were hurrying over. Bellatrix noticed them, too. "Little fwiends coming to help you, Siwius? _Ah_ ... It's a shame Four-Eyes is out cold, isn't it?"

Severus sat in quiet glee while Bellatrix and Lestrange towered over Black.

"Why don't you sod off?" said Black furiously. "Why do _you_ care what happens to Snivelly?"

__

Snivelly. Severus saw red. It was the most infuriating, the most _humiliating_ ... 

"_You_—" He jumped to his feet and, incoherent with rage, leapt at Black from behind, using every ounce of strength he could muster to knock him flat. Black shouted out and landed on the ground with a satisfying _thud_. Severus yanked him over onto his back and began pummelling his face, stomach, chest, anywhere he could find a place to hit. He was burning with rage, an all-consuming, blinding hatred. He drove all his fury and loathing into the punches, relishing in every _smack_ noise made when his fists connected with Black's _smug face_—

Black's own fist clouted him in the face and knocked him sideways. He rolled off him and stood, covering his watering eye with one hand, fumbling for his wand with the other. He'd kill him. _Kill him_ ...

Black had scrambled to his feet and, looking enraged, started forward again but Lupin had appeared behind him and was dragging him forcibly back.

"Sirius, no!"

"Get _off_, Remus!" shouted Black, trying to fight him off.

"Sirius, I'd have to give you detention! There's no way I could let you get away with it!"

"I don't care, _Prefect_, I'm going to break his fucking nose—"

"Remus! Sirius! McGonagall's coming!" hissed Pettigrew, who had put in an appearance and was dancing anxiously from foot to foot. Potter was sitting on the ground next to him, looking dazed and angry and pinching his nose, which was bleeding heavily.

Lupin was keeping a tight grip on Black's upper arms. Severus noted through the throbbing pain that Bellatrix Black and that Lestrange bloke had gone. He was on his own now. 

"One day, Black," he said softly, voice trembling with the almost overpowering desire to shout and scream at him. But he could wait. Things would change. He wasn't put in Slytherin for nothing. He'd get his revenge on Black. And Potter, and Lupin. He just needed a bit of patience.

With Herculean effort, he lowered his wand, grabbed his bag and stormed away.

*~*~*~*~*

"Well now, what have we here?"

Severus squinted up into the sun to see a familiar face above him. He said nothing. She may have helped him but she was still related to that pathetic excuse for a pure-blooded wizard.

"Ah, come now. You can speak to me. It's my little cousin you want to watch out for."

Still, Severus didn't speak.

Bellatrix settled herself on the ground beside him. "I'm Bellatrix Black. Soon to be Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Hello," said Severus, wishing she would go away and leave him alone.

"You're Severus Snape, yes? Son of Emeric and Gwendolyn Snape?"

He scowled at her. "Yes," he snapped. How did she know so much about his family?

"Well, Severus," she said. "What are you reading?" Without waiting for an answer she plucked the book from his unresisting hands. "_A Compendium of Curses: Mild to Malicious_ by Malacath Morah." She began flicking through it. Severus regarded her warily.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence while Bellatrix made the occasional "_hmmm_" or "_ouch_" his impatience got the better of him. "May I have that back, please?" he asked coolly.

"Certainly," she answered, placing it decorously in his outstretched hands.

"Thank you."

"How many have you tried?"

"A few."

"Just a few?"

"Yes."

"Why? They sound rather fun," she said mischievously. "There are some _painful_-sounding ones in there ..."

He nodded but said nothing.

A pause. "You're from a pure-blood family, aren't you, Severus?"

"Yes," he said guardedly.

"Mmmm. Me too." As if the entire wizarding community hadn't heard of the infamous Black family. "There are some who will say that all wizards should be pure-blooded," she continued nonchalantly. "What do you think?"

"Well, I—"

"I mean, don't you think it's just _dreadfully _sad that with each generation the original wizarding families are dying out? Our blood is being tainted by Muggle-born witches and wizards, and even," – here she gave a theatrical shudder – "Muggles! Just plain, not-a-trace-of-magic, dirty, common Muggles! It's _outrageous_. Of course," she said, smirking, "not all of us are willing to let that happen. Some of us will not let our bloodlines be dirtied by non-wizarding folk."

Severus wasn't sure what the best thing to say here would be, so he kept quiet.

"Little cousin Sirius is a nasty traitor," said Bellatrix in a conspiratorial tone of voice. "And his friend – Potter, is it? – He has quite the thing about that awful red-headed Mudblood. I've seen him drooling over her." She paused again. "Some would say the pair of them should be dealt with ..."

That caught Severus's attention. He looked at her, interested.

"Now, wouldn't it be nice to see Potter and little Sirius dealt with in a ... well, let's say a _memorable_ manner?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm sure I could arrange a little something .... You may already know that my family have the right idea. They know the value of pure blood. Sirius ... well, he's the white sheep of the family." She cackled at her own joke. "He's not terribly popular with the relatives, you know. Well—" She scowled. "—except with my awful sister, Andromeda. She's like him. A pathetic outcast. Anyway—" she reverted back to her sickly-sweet, coaxing tone of voice "—I'll be paying my aunt and uncle a visit over the summer. If I could drop into the conversation a little bit about the filth Sirius has been consorting with and the _dreadful_ disrespect with which he treats his fellow pure wizards ..." She paused gleefully. "Well, the results could be _grave_."

She looked at him expectantly and he was unable to suppress a smirk. The Blacks were infamous for good reason. Their family history was brutal.

"Of course, you won't be around to see it, but I wouldn't be too terribly upset about missing out on the fun. It's only two years until you leave school, after all ... Have you thought about what you'd like to do?"

He had, in fact, but had come to no decisions about it. His main skill was Potions, though he had a passion for learning about curses and how they could affect the mind and body. If there was a way to combine the two he didn't know of it. "I've thought about it," he said.

"Well, I know of a certain group of like-minded people who might be interested to meet you. They feel the same way we do. Tell me, Severus, have you ever heard of Lord Voldemort?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. There had been whispers, stories, about a man who had fashioned himself a new identity, had gathered followers. There had been a group of third years discussing it in the common room two days ago, trying to decide if there was any truth in the rumours. Some of the older students listened, some smiling indulgently, some looking sceptical, others trying to look disinterested. Severus had been listening from where he had been sitting with Kenneth Avery and Elliot Nott. 

Some were saying he was once a student at Hogwarts, others said he belonged to one of the more powerful pure-blooded families. One of the more far-fetched stories was that it was Salazar Slytherin himself, come to purge the wizarding world of all but those whose blood was pure.

"Yes," he answered, "but there's a lot of conflicting information about him. Some aren't sure whether he exists at all."

"Oh, he exists," Bellatrix answered, smiling widely. "And the reason there's so much conflicting information about him is that people don't know what he doesn't want them to know. In fact, he trusts only a select group."

"Those people you mentioned before."

Bellatrix nodded, looking extremely self-satisfied. "That's right. The Dark Lord knows who can benefit our cause ..." The use of the word 'our' didn't go unnoticed by Severus and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Bellatrix seemed unperturbed. "... and he wants you."

Severus's head snapped up and he looked at her, caught off guard. "Me?"

"Yes," she said, nodding again. "You. He knows a lot about you. He knows you know where your best interests lie, he knows those in your family know where _their_ best interests lie, he knows all about your interest in the Dark." She nodded at the book, now sitting forgotten on the grass beside him. "He knows how little Sirius and his horrid friends treat you. He knows you'd like to see them get their come-uppance."

Severus sat silently. What exactly was he being offered?

"Of course, you'll have to wait until you leave Hogwarts, but he is willing to wait. He is nothing if not patient."

As if sensing Severus's indecision, Bellatrix continued in a conspiratorial tone of voice, "And he has libraries of books on potions and curses that you'll never find anywhere else. There are rumours that some of them belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself. You could read them to your heart's content."

Severus nodded, thinking.

"Of course, you'll have to help him out in return," said Bellatrix. "He recruits only the best. Those who he knows can further our cause. If you help him he can guarantee you money, power, respect and knowledge. Far more than you'll get if you find yourself a nice little job in an apothecary somewhere. He is noble, our Lord, and he is the only one who can see to it that the Muggles don't overrun us and destroy out history, our heritage. Muggles are afraid of what they don't understand, Severus. They'd try to destroy us without a thought, just because they can't wrap their teeny-tiny brains around our _superior_ world. And the Ministry and the Muggle-lovers will just stand by and let it happen when that day comes." She shook her head, looking disgusted. "It must be prevented. Anyway ... there are a few people about your age working for our Lord. Not many, though. Most aren't any good to us."

Severus wasn't stupid; he could see through the flattery, but he found himself being brought round all the same. She was right; a normal job didn't appeal to him at all and the research institutions of which he knew likely didn't allow or condone experimentation with dark curses and potions. Maybe, thought Severus, maybe this Voldemort character was what he'd been looking for. He was sick – _sick_ – of being ridiculed and laughed at by those Gryffindor fools. They thought they were so above everyone else when all they did was play mindless Quidditch and insipid pranks on anyone who looked the other way for that split second too long. He _despised_ them with all he had. Especially Perfect Potter with his squint glasses, inflated ego and hedgehog hair ... He hadn't been happy about the stunning incident a few days ago. He went almost purple with rage every time Severus so much as entered the same room as him, but he and Black were evidently too worried about Bellatrix and Lestrange to try to wreak any sort of revenge. And, even better, the Mudblood was ignoring Potter completely. Severus had watched with grim amusement as Potter tried (and failed) to get her to speak to him, time and time again.

But to get his own back on those insufferable Gryffindors ... The burning rage he had felt at the time had diminished to an omnipresent ache. A constant yearning to do _something_ that would make them regret ever having mocked him, ever having cursed him when he had done nothing to provoke it. He felt like if he didn't satisfy his thirst for revenge soon he would spontaneously combust.

And here was the opportunity. He wouldn't have to life a finger, even ...

"What do I have to do?" he asked.

Bellatrix grinned, looking genuinely pleased. "Nothing yet. I'll inform my contact that you're willing to help us. Someone will be in contact soon. Expect an owl sometime next week." 

She stood up and looked down at him. "You don't have a problem with doing things that ... well, the law doesn't necessarily agree with, do you, Severus? You wouldn't be caught, of course, not as long as you have your wits about you. Of course, by the time those Ministry dimwits realised what had happened we'd all be long gone. And we do have people on the inside, keeping an eye on things ..."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Voldemort's people working for the _Ministry_?

"So you see," said Bellatrix briskly, "we're in a good position. We can get almost any inside information we want from the Ministry. They're hopeless. Always owling Dumbledore for advice." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "It's almost a shame, though, that all we have to do is ask. It's so satisfying when they finally break and tell you exactly what you want to know ..." An expression of cold satisfaction settled onto her face. Before Severus had time to dwell on what she'd said she was grinning again. "So, welcome to the Death Eaters."

And with that she flounced off, a spring in her step. Severus watched her for a moment and went back to his book, feeling almost optimistic in a way that he hadn't in a long time.

Thanks for reading. Please review!


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